Don't Call Her That
by shaping-up-to-be-pretty-ood
Summary: Some things you just couldn't run away from or fight, like physical appearances. River knows this all too well, but the Doctor won't hesitate to convince anyone that she isn't aging at all, including her.


Drinks. River had asked him to get something fizzy. Champagne was something this body could handle, unlike wine. He cheerily made his way through the elegantly dressed and happily dancing crowd, holding the champagne flutes high enough so no one would bump them and ruin his nice tuxedo. Especially the scarf! Ooh, he would never forgive himself if he ruined the scarf.

But the glasses slipped out of his hand and crashed onto the polished black floor, causing a slick spill over several feet. He had made his way back to where he left his wife, just in time to see a middle-aged, well-groomed man run his hand over River's rear. Before River even had time to whirl to give the man a good tongue lashing, he was sprawled on the floor in the champagne slick. The Doctor hadn't realized he had pushed the man until his heavy breathing finally clicked with the action.

"Keep your hands off of her!" he growled towards the man's shocked face. There was a strange sense of unmitigated fury coursing through him. That was new.

"What, can't stand to see Mummy appreciated?" The man spat as he carefully got to his feet and got extremely close to the Doctor's face. In angry amusement, the Doctor noted that this man was almost a head shorter than him, and he took advantage of it, towering over the shorter man. The entire ballroom had gotten quiet, and even though it didn't register, River had a cautious hand resting on her husband's shoulder in case he decided to get physical again.

"_She is my WIFE," _the Doctor hissed in rage, his eyes burning. River kept a watchful eye on his face, ready to drag him away from the situation at the slightest hint of violence. "Apologize to her, _now,_ or I swear I will become very unpleasant company."

The other man's eyes swept shamefully to River. "Madame, I am truly sorry for my actions and distasteful comment. Now if you will excuse me." He shot the Doctor a hateful glare which the furious alien responded to with a sneer, and stalked out of the ballroom.

Once the man was gone, the Doctor's demeanor returned to a more normal state. He apologized to everyone for having to witness such an inappropriate display of unpleasantries. In addition, he insisted that he clean up the mess he had made as well. It made River slightly uneasy, just standing there with all the eyes in the ballroom on them. But the night gradually resumed its former upbeat atmosphere. River let the events drift to the back of her mind until it was time for the pair to make their way back to the suite the Doctor had surprised her with, and the patiently waiting spaceship standing in a corner.

xXx

She sighed as she sat on the edge of the insanely extravagant bed and slipped her shoes off. Out of the corner of her eye she could see her husband sneaking glances at her, particularly the heels he had been gulping at all night. Once she felt that it was safe to do so, she flopped backwards onto the squishy comforter, letting her hair splay across the surface like a halo. It was only a few moments before the Doctor crawled onto the bed with her, tenderly kissing her before he rolled onto his side instead of on all fours over her. He slipped the wide ruffly strap of the chiffon dress off her shoulder slowly, stroking the newly exposed skin and occasionally kissing it. Emboldened, he kissed his way to her neck, just _maaaaybe_ slipping the tip of his tongue along her jawline.

"Sweetie, stop." Her voice sounded pained, so he obliged, rising to look her in the eyes.

"What's the matter?" he said softly. "You love it when I do that."

She averted her gaze. "Do I really look old enough to be your mother?"

"Of course not! That git had no idea what he was talking about. I have never seen a woman so full of fire, and and and... _life_. The best part about it is that you're _mine._ No one else ever gets to touch you like that." To emphasize his point, one hand slid up her sheer dress to rest on her hip. There was a small smile on his face. But the smile faded when he saw that she was crying regardless, and was replaced by wholehearted concern. "River..." He sat up slowly. "River, sit up, please." She did so, covering her face with her hands to hide her tears. "Come on, my love... There's no need for this. I'll never leave you. I promise you'll always have me by your side no matter what either of us look like. What happens if my next regeneration looks as old as the first? People will be thinking I'm your grandfather!" He slid backwards to lean against the mahogany headboard, gathering River into his arms as he went. She wept silently into his shoulder, and he stroked her hair lovingly. "I'm sorry I called you Mrs. Robinson."

"It's not that," she choked out, clutching at the lapel of the Doctor's jacket. "I just have no more regenerations. That means that I _won't _stay with you forever. I'm not even sure if I'll live to grow old, the way we live!"

The Doctor remained silent, forcing himself to not think about the Library and the horrible day coming for his wife. He just tilted her head up, wiped away her tears with shaky fingers, and pressed a delicate peck against her mouth that quickly morphed into a needy, smoldering kiss. He still stroked her hair, and eventually his hands became tangled in the glorious mess of curls, and she had buried her hands in his hair likewise.

When she finally drew back again, she held his face carefully and searched his eyes. "Are you... sure? I mean, this isn't your first-"

"No, of course not. Why else would I make sure we had this large of a bed?"

This drew a slight smile out of her as she laid back over him to prove that she was _definitely _not getting old.


End file.
